


The Dark Angel's Wings

by TigerLilyWarrior



Category: The Dark Angel's Wings
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2018-12-07 21:23:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11632179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerLilyWarrior/pseuds/TigerLilyWarrior
Summary: She was an angel craving chaos. He was a Fallen seeking peace.





	1. “What defines us is how well we rise after Falling.”

“What defines us is how well we rise after Falling.”

The emptiness of the sky echoed into an eternity of nothingness. It is said, that as he stared into the abyss, it began consumed his soul. He uttered a single word   
Light  
And it was. In a single burst of pure luminescence the Chaos was filled with brilliant, blinding light.   
But, of course, that wasn’t enough for the prick.   
The God of Light, as he so humbly named himself, formed the night. He formed quickly, and grew so powerful he rivaled Light himself. Together they formed a mass of colours, and moved it about till it suited them. They created sparking balls of matter of different names, which shown out threw the Night. But Night was cunning. He stole away while Light looked upon the earth, and ignited the stars. “We must all end.” He declared, and so created time. Light returned full of anger and hate. Night spoke to him, “Everything which comes must go, even us father.” What happened next was death.   
The God of Light, full of vengeance for his beloved creation swept down to earth and plucked up a young mortal named Serilda. Light had noticed his son with her, and decided he must set a precedent for his angels. “You must never love a mortal, my children, for she will be the death of you.” With those words The God of Light crushed Serilda to dust.   
In his grief, Night spread Serilda’s ashes down on the land, and wept. As his tears soaked the dirt, from the ashes grew seven golden flowers. The flowers were indestructible, and despite the attempts of Light to destroy them, he could not. Light’s wrath rained down on the earth, and he buried the mortals in hot coals. He hurled Night down with those who disobeyed him, to the deepest caverns of the earth. And there they have remained.   
Night can be heard crawling and scraping to this day, his cries shaking the earth; and as the stars burn, the Night grows stronger.


	2. “Be careful who you trust. The devil was once an angel.”

 

The stars are black and gone.

Many eons ago, the two gods fought for power. The God of light was a beacon for the pure, and led the Celestials; the God of Night, corrupted, doomed to walk the earth by loving a mortal. The God of Light believed in peace, but only for his Celestials; The God of Night craved the joining of worlds. I had seen the mortals, beautiful in their ways, with darkness in their hearts. I abandoned eternity for them, joining the legions of the Fallen, whom walk amongst the living. The Fallen crave chaos, whilst others pursue justice. I am not blameless, for my allegiance is for what I believe. My Heaven is no more, all that is left is the rising of the Fallen, and the falling of the risen.

I was once christened Tarrance, since the Falling, the angels dared only speak of me as the Reaper. I hear the blood of mortals whispering to me, calling, speaking of the shadows in their soul. All they have done I see. I have no god, only the lust for their blood.  
When I hear them call, my wings stir, disguised by the intricate pattern of ink on my back. Black ebony feathers stretch out from me, spanning the length of two mortals. I move silently through the sky, the sweet scent of human thought guiding me over the water, and toward the awaiting lights of Manhattan. The wind current lifts me higher until I dive down toward the waves of the sea. My reflection stares back at me; cold piercing green eyes passing over my bare chest, before moving to my blackened wings. I run my hands through blonde silk hair and smile an almost deadly grin. God nor man can ever destroy me.

As it began to rain, I descended onto an old tiled roof over a dimly lit alley, landing silently. A sign overhanging the empty street reads Dixon’s Bar, the B flickering as the red neon dies away.  
A woman comes from the door. I observe her pleasing figure in a short green dress; her brown hair bounces as she walks briskly away. She consistently looks over her shoulder as she steps, a worried expression etching her face. As she passes the window of the bookstore, a man steps out of the bar, his hood shielding his face.  
He swiftly gains ground on the woman, tripping her once upon her. He advances to pin her against the brick of the alley, grabbing her throat. I can hear him whispering vile things, of which only demons would speak. I withdraw myself out of the shadows when the woman begins to scream. My wings fully extend themselves and take flight. In seconds I am upon them. 

I remove my tarnished black dagger, and gaze the silver edges catching the light. I reach for the man and my the edges of my wings rip his shirt, destroying his back. Grabbing his throat, I throw him against the other wall of the alley. I follow him, walking with a smug look and slit his throat. His bloodstained corpse hits the cobblestone with a loud thud.  
I turn to the woman in time to see her falling to the ground sobbing, her neck and chest torn badly from when I cut the man. It is then that I notice that she is bleeding out. Her blood shines golden in the moonlight. While not not as pure as mine is, as the blood runs from her wounds, I see. 

My hands instantaneously scorch fire. I lower to her side and bare her wounds, preparing to cauterize them. I hold my hand to her, and yet she does not scream. She rolls her head around and stares at me as if in a dream. Her eyes gaze into mine with such intensity, the hazel color beyond description, and yet there it was too. Tiny golden specks of pureness that lured me to her.  
She was a Mortal Celestial.


	3. "I may be on the side of angels, but don't for a second, think I am one of them."

The Fallen were angels, abandoned by their father. Forced to walk the earth for all eternity. As the Falling occurred, the God of Light prepared legions of Celestials; winged gods with white hearts. Their faces shined bright and their skin was warm as the sun. They were immortal, their blood golden. Their wings were white and soft, and glistened when they flew through heaven. The God of Light had branded the Celestials as his, and they bore his mark on their arms.

The God of Night claimed me when my heart became tarnished with doubt. It transpired as Cato had just returned from a mission given him by the God of Light; ending a mortal’s life.

Cato laughed. “You should have witnessed it, Tarrance. She was terrified.”

“For what purpose was she ended?”

“It does not truly matter, Tarrance. She died for our well being. There was a reason.”

“Than what was it?”

Cato’s expression grew dark. “Tarrance, be careful. You sound mutinous.” he warned.

I stared back at the Celestial Gardens. This is my home. My place is here.

While I stood guard over the earth at twilight, the God of Night whispered to me.  
“Come, justify your existence with me.”

I tried to shake his vile tongue from me, but as the days grew long a shadow began to pass on my wings. It was then that I fled from heaven.

As I ran the Lord sent Cato to me. He threw brimstone upon me, and hurled me down to earth. When I hit a great earthquake shook, destroying San Fransisco. I have since been here for 112 years.

Falling gave me freedom, but at a terrible price. In the following years my wings transformed into those of a raven, and my Celestial mark became ash. I was immortal, but sentenced to trod the earth.


End file.
